Decembers of Love
by butterflye
Summary: James Bond is off on a new adventure, but this time, with the original 007, who happens to be female, and a major criminal. Will they be able to save the world again, or will their biggest challenge be getting along?
1. Old Piano

It was dark out, and she was breaking the law again. Maybe she'd forgotten, maybe she just didn't care, but either way, she was doing it. Formerly the best hacker in the country – well she was probably still the best hacker in the country, just not professionally anymore – she worked independently now, for various people. Mostly of the criminal persuasion. She knew the rules, and she knew the loopholes. She'd never been caught, and she still had royal protection (she was actually an agent before she quit, and they hadn't seemed to notice she was gone), even if she was caught, so she had no problem with doing what she was doing.

"Alright, let's see what everyone's been up to while I was away."

Talking to herself. It kept her calm in times like these. It drove her superiors mad, but that didn't matter anymore, not now, not after she'd left. The only thing that mattered right now was the job she'd been hired to do, and she was going to get paid in full, she was determined of that, so she had to do the job in full.

"Let's see if my login still works"

The prompt:

PLEASE ENTER NAME AND PASSCODE:

NAME: nkirk

PASSCODE:1123581321

The return button was begging to be hit. And complied, and was in. The message on the screen almost made her smile.

WELCOME, 007.

Her old rank. She used to be proud of it. Now, it was just a number, a memory of who – no, of what – she used to be.

"Okay, M, debrief me. What've you been doing lately?"

Another conversation with nobody. But she was wary, always, and heard the click of a gun being cocked from behind. She knew she was in trouble, because neither the people she was doing the job for nor the police would immediately threaten her with a gun. She did know an organization whose agents wouldn't hesitate to shoot her. Unfortunately, it was the one she was hacking into.

"I'm not deaf, you know."

She turned and was faced with the barrel of a gun. She wasn't surprised, but now that it was pointed at her face, her situation seemed much more real. She stood, slowly. It wasn't her best idea, but it did put her at a better point of contact. Plus, she got a look at her attacker. He was best described as handsome, with short blond hair, and piercing blue eyes. He had an air of disdain about him. She could maybe have respected him on some level if he wasn't pointing a gun at her. He motioned for her to sit back down.

"Do you talk?" she taunted. He still said nothing. Maybe he wasn't quite used to pointing guns at people. Was he even a 00? Because if she was being hunted down by a rookie, she'd have to let M know somehow that it was an insult to her intelligence. Or something.

"Right then, well, if you won't say anything, I'll get back to what I was doing. And you'll leave my house."

She sat down at her computer again. And he finally spoke.

"No."

She turned and stood for the second time, facing him. He had put his gun down. Perhaps he wasn't going to shoot her in the first place.

"No? Look, I don't care what I have to do to get you to leave, but I'm working, and you can't stop that."

A look. And the gun again. But she was at an advantage. The safety was on. He couldn't shoot her – yet. A well placed kick would do it. She struck, and he buckled from a strong kick in the knees. She ran for her kitchen, and pulled a knife from her cutlery drawer. Hiding it behind her back, she waited for the poor man to recover. It didn't take long. He was on his feet, in the kitchen, gun still drawn. Innocent or bitch was the main question for her, because she still didn't know who this guy was, so she didn't know how he'd react to her scary mode. Innocent it was then. She pretended to cry.

"Please, don't shoot me, I didn't mean to hurt you, I just–"

"You didn't hurt me."

_Well done, you got four words out_, she thought angrily.

"It's just–"sob "they'll kill him if I don't do what they say, and I just...I love him." _Where is this coming from?? Not me, although obviously it's working. No more gun._

He walked towards her slowly, gun down at his side, muttering something about losing his job. As soon as he got close enough, she grabbed his arm and swung around him, holding her knife to his throat.

"Listen," she said quietly, but nonetheless intensely, "I don't know who you are, and what's more, I don't really care, but I want you out of my home, and I want you out now. Am I being perfectly clear?"

There was a short silence, then:

"I'm your replacement. M wants you back."

Her heart skipped a beat. Not this again.

"That's why you didn't shoot me, isn't it? Who are you?"

She let go of him, and he re-aimed the gun. She rolled her eyes and held up the magazine.

"Try it. Who are you?"

He tilted his head and holstered his gun.

"The name's Bond, James Bond."

_Oh, lovely._


	2. Chasing Cars

She wouldn't stay still, and he was starting to get annoyed. It had been half an hour since she had (quite smartly, but he wasn't going to tell her that) disarmed him in her kitchen. Once she'd calmed down he'd explained that MI6 had some new information regarding a Canadian organization that provided funding and weapons to the world's largest anti-Christian base, which happened to be in England somewhere and planning a mass attack on Europe. This, of course was mostly true, the only lie being that it was an anti-religion base, in Italy, and it was planning an attack on, not only Europe, but everywhere else too. The were now sitting in the van that had been ordered to pick them up, no matter how much of a fight she put up. And she just wouldn't stop fidgeting.

"Stop it," he said wearily. It had been a tremendously long day, and he was not in the mood for this.

"Stop what – breathing?" she replied snarkily.

"You're fidgeting...it's making me nervous."

She rolled her eyes. But she stopped and gazed out the tinted window. James doubted she could see anything, between the darkness of the window and the darkness outside, but he strongly suspected that it was a ploy to not talk to him. M had refused to tell him much about her. He knew only where she lived and what she looked like. He would find out her name, apparently, when they got back to Vauxhall Cross.

He couldn't wait that long.

"You owe me something, you know, for trying to kill me."

She raised one eyebrow, in a sarcastic sort of way, if one could raise one's eyebrow in a sarcastic sort of way.

"Oh? And what's that?"

He took a deep breath. M would not be pleased that he had pried into his predecessor's life without her permission, but M was just going to have to live with it.

"Your name. I told you mine, it's your turn now."

When she froze, he assumed it was because she was scared. It wasn't.

"And M didn't tell you?"

"No."

"And you don't recognize me?"

"No...?" He was terribly confused by this question, as he had never met her before.

"It's Natalie Kirk. I'm sorry; I assumed you knew my name. I've seen you before, but we haven't been introduced formally. I believe you knew my fiancé?"

"I don't think so," he disagreed.

"His name was Luka Kolcei."

"I didn't know him."

"Yes you did...you knew a man named Mathis, right?"

James was shocked. Nobody besides he and M knew about Mathis, and the fact that he was a traitor. How could she have known?

"Yes...but what does that have to do with anything?"

She sighed, and eyed him as though he were a small child in need of a reprimand.

"What it has to do with anything is that your friend Mathis...was actually Luka's friend Mathis. A very sneaky man," she said quietly. Then, out of the blue, "Do you play cards?"

James frowned. It was obvious she was changing the subject.

"I do."

She smiled for the first time that night. Then she produced a pack of cards from one of the pockets in her jeans, which she had changed into in the wait for the van. She dealt out the cards for a game of blackjack. She looked up and saw the expression on his face, and she smirked.

"Or is Go Fish more your style?"

James scowled. This girl was extremely annoying, but at least he wouldn't be working with her on the case. He was just there to pick her up and get her to headquarters.

An hour later, they were still in the van on the way to Vauxhall Cross. Having exhausted the idea of playing cards, they were now sitting in silence, which James imagined to be a relief to the driver, as they'd been yelling excitedly while playing cards, not something he'd ever do in public, but she seemed not to care, as she was doing it too.

It was strange, getting there. He'd thought she wasn't that far from headquarters, but apparently he was mistaken. It had taken two hours to get there, a half hour to get the security guard to let her in, and then fifteen minutes for him to convince her that M had, in fact, changed offices and was not currently on the fourth floor of the building anymore.

As they walked into M's office, she looked up and a ghost of a smile flitted across her normally serious, and sometimes grave, face.

"Welcome back, 007."

James frowned. This was odd. But Natalie, who had been gazing around the room in somewhat awe, looked straight at M.

"It's good to be back. I think."

This shocked James. He'd always known that he had replaced an agent who'd resigned to be with her fiancé, just as he almost had, but he'd no idea that she had the same number as him.

"Well, knowing the two of you, I'm sure you recognized each other and caught up on the past six months."

Natalie said nothing, but James frowned and noticed her expression, which was one of anxiety.

"She says that I know her fiancé," he replied by way of answer.

"And so you do."

Natalie started to fidget again.

"I don't."

"Yes, Bond, you do. You two first met in Montenegro, and at the time, she was engaged to Luka Kolcei."

"Yes," he said impatiently. "But I don't know a Luka-" M cut him off.

"I wasn't finished, Bond. Luka Kolcei also went by the alias Le Chiffre."

_Bugger._

**A.N: Ooh...okay, so click the button and review! Virtual cookies for CONSTRUCTIVE criticism!**_  
_


	3. One Good Reason

Natalie sagged in her seat, as though she was relaxed, but her face showed a very different expression. Her eyes were wide and wild-looking, and her whole face had tensed when M had uttered the words that had sent Bond storming out of the room. She sighed.

"M, you really didn't have to tell him that," she said, loudly enough for M to hear, but not so loud that anyone who would have been standing outside the door would hear. Because she knew, as angry as Bond was, he probably wouldn't go too far from the office.

"Hmm...well, I agree it wasn't completely necessary, but as you two are going to be working together..." M trailed off. Natalie hoped that M meant working in the same building, for the same people, not actually _together_.

"What do you mean, we're going to be working together? I'm not working with him, M, he'll get me killed! Or worse, kill me himself," she replied, her whole body tensing again. M shook her head. She understood Kirk's paranoia, but Bond was controlled enough that he would never kill anyone without orders to do so. Even in the case of Le Chiffre, Bond hadn't killed him.

"Kirk, you are to do whatever I tell you to. You know that there's going to be at least one assignment where you don't like who you're working with, and if you're too scared to work with Bond, maybe you shouldn't have joined MI6 in the first place," M fumed at Kirk and was met with a stony glare.

"If I remember correctly, I don't work for MI6 anymore. I resigned a year ago, and that was fine by you. So you have no right whatsoever to tell me who I should and shouldn't work with."

"You may as well have defected. If I had known your were resigning to be with your _target_, you would have been-"

"Killed or fired. Either way, I'd be out of the service."

Natalie smirked as M contemplated that. Then, her superior frowned.

"Go find Bond. Tell him I want him in my office."

"M, are you sure that's a good-?"

"Now. And be sure to join him, Kirk. I need to find you a 00 status, as he is currently filling the position of 007."

Kirk sighed and got up.

"Ma'am," she said dejectedly.

0070007007007007007007007007007

Natalie left the office and, as she expected, found Bond sulking just outside the door. She arched one eyebrow.

"How much did you hear?"

He glared up at her. She glared back.

"M says you have to go back into her office and put up with me."

"Tell her no."

Natalie grimaced.

"She's M, she'll come out here and drag you back in herself. I personally wouldn't want to be humiliated in my workplace, especially not here."

He cocked his head and looked at her. It was all she could do not to burst out laughing at her mental picture of James Bond with a tail. It certainly made him look less murderous.

"Fine. But only until she says what she has to say."

Natalie grinned.

"Right. Whatever you say, oh mighty replacement."

She then turned on her heel and strolled back into M's office. James followed her, fuming at her remark. _Oh mighty replacement_? How dare she say that, especially since her _fiancé _was basically the reason he was promoted? M raised her eyebrows briefly at their quick reappearance.

"That didn't take long," she said questioningly. Natalie shrugged and sat without invitation.

"He wasn't very far away. It's not like he went to Australia," she teased. James frowned. If he said things like that to M he would be fired, then killed. But somehow, this _Natalie_ was allowed to get away with it. James, like Natalie, sat without invitation, earning himself a glare from M and a smug expression from the woman sitting next to him. He sighed. Yet another unfairness.

"Right. Now that you are both present and accounted for, your assignment..." M began. James couldn't resist interrupting her.

"Wait. Are we on assignment together?" he asked, realizing he sounded incredibly rude. M smirked.

"As a matter of fact, Bond, you are. I've already spoken to Kirk about this, so please ask her to fill you in on my lecture as none of us have the time for me to repeat it."

Bond frowned. Well, then. Apparently Kirk was none to pleased about this either, as she wore an expression very similar to his own.

"As I was saying, your assignment is to locate and disable a very dangerous anti-religious extremist group that was based in Canada but somehow made its way to Italy. They're planning to attack every major country, starting with Rome and possibly the Vatican. From there, they plan to attack all metropolitan areas, including Paris, New York, Edinburgh, Tokyo, just to name a few. We believe that they will eventually attack their homeland, but our hopes are that they don't make it that far. It would be very much appreciated by all if you two would be able to stop the whole thing before it reached Rome. Any questions?"

"Um..." Kirk frowned, biting her lip.

"Yes, Kirk?"

"Well, my question is, how are we supposed to stop them from getting to Rome, if they're already in Italy? I mean, isn't it just a question of them going from wherever they are to Rome, and deploying their attack?"

At this, M grinned, which was a rare thing for her to do.

"Well, that's where they've run into a problem. You see, their...finances were cut short around the same time your fiancé died. We think he may have been the one supplying the money. They need the money to finish working on whatever they're planning."

"So I'm back in character, am I?"

"Well, yes and no. You're going to have to become Valenka again, but just while you meet with them. But keep in mind that they are going to want the money they were promised. And as I'm not sure how much your fiancé put into that poker game..."

Kirk sighed. This was the problem. Of course, it was an advantage that the funding was cut short, but nonetheless, she had no money for them.

"All of it. But, if I'm not mistaken, Mr. Bond here should be in possession of all the money. Unless he spent it all in half a year, which I very much doubt."

Bond tensed up, as though bracing for an attack.

"Actually, it's in a secure bank account belonging to the service. So M is the one in possession of all the money."

"But you know the code and password. So you could access it anytime you like. Couldn't you?"

"Yes," he said hesitantly, " I suppose I could."

"It's set then," Kirk said, a smug look crossing her face for the second time that night. "You get the money, I'll get the accent and the clothes...oh. The clothes."

"The clothes?"

Kirk smiled sheepishly.

"Well, I may have burned everything that had to do with Luka...and the clothes may have been tossed in accidentally..."

_Oh dear God. I thought I was attached._


	4. Another Way to Die

_**Six 1/2 Months Ago**_

She gingerly plucked the metal capsule from the envelope that Luka had left on the bedside table. She'd no idea where he went, but she knew at least what the capsule was for. He'd explained it all in the short note he'd left pinned to his pillow. Which she had discovered by rolling over onto it.

_Nat,_

_There is an envelope on the bedside table. Don't open the capsule, not yet. When you go to watch the poker game, slip the powder inside into Bond's drink. MAKE SURE IT'S HIS. I'll see you then._

_I love you_

_Luka_

So there she was, sitting on her unmade bed, holding what seemed to be a deadly poison, trying her hardest not to spill it. She was glad for the top of the capsule when her room filled with a noisy buzz. Whirling around, she saw that her alarm clock was blinking 8:30. Oh. Her alarm had gone off. Right. She really wasn't cut out for these sort of field-undercover missions. She'd already spilled the beans on her identity, and he'd been fine. Hell, he'd proposed to her the next day, she realized, looking again at the strange ring-shaped entity on her left hand. She slammed said hand down on her alarm clock in the general area of the Power button and the buzz stopped. And her thoughts snapped back to the tiny metal pill of death she was holding.

Poison. She'd heard someone say once that it was the most cowardly way to kill someone. Remote, distant murder. No fingerprints, no DNA, no trace that you were there at all. And no honour to it at all. Of course, that was way back in the MI6 days.

Going about her day, acting as though she wasn't about to murder (sans dignity) an MI6 agent, maybe even a friend, Natalie noticed that it wasn't just her clothes and her accent that had changed during this mission. She herself had done a complete 180°, going from a quiet little hacker working for MI6 on the side to a full-blown agent, out on a field mission. A target-capture-and-kill field mission, too.

If she thought about it, really sat and thought about it, she probably would realize that, despite the adventure and the action and Luka, she really hated this defection thing. The lying, the stealing, the criminal activity, it wasn't her. She was meant to be on the proper side of the law, not the side that was always dodging men like James Bond.

Bond. She knew the name from her agent days. When she was there, he was a reckless rookie who gambled his own life and the lives of others to get the job done. With a jolt, she realized that she was becoming Bond, and Bond was becoming her. He'd become calm, cool and collected, while she was on a steady decline in the composure area. A nervous wreck, really. Which was a sad commentary in and of itself as she'd passed in the confidence area with flying colours. This needed to stop. She needed to collect herself and put some distance between her and Bond. If she didn't, she wouldn't be able to pull it all off. She dressed quickly and went for a drink.

When the time came to poison the man, she made sure she didn't know him.

**A.N.: **Blahhh....Sorry about the shortness of this chapter (and the end, which isn't that brilliant). The you-poisoned-me issue is going to come up soon. This is just a little bit a prelude. Thanks ^ 10 to my beta, **ZombieeGirl** and also to **Silential** whose TDK fic, "Strings", pretty much kept me afloat while working through my frustration with this chapter. :)

_**Disclaimer:**_ Well, I got the movie, the soundtrack, the inside joke, and the inspiration over the past little while, however, I've yet to actually get the rights to James Bond. Darn.


End file.
